


End

by LocalShinigami



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Angst with an almost happy ending, F/M, M/M, Minor Violence, death of a character, this could turn into multiple chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8196479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocalShinigami/pseuds/LocalShinigami
Summary: Abbas has taken control of the Order and Malik has been placed in the dungeon for the last two years, while Abbas has taken control. He is to be finally executed for his "crimes" against the order. A rescue is attempted, but at what cost? Malik tries to find some peace before his end.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really hate Abbas. I didn't handle it very well when I found out he killed Malik. This is my way of coping with this knowledge....total denial! 
> 
> Like I stated in the tags, I might turn this into a longer story. I'm kind of wanting to explore how everything would be handled after the events of this chapter.
> 
> Oliver Bowden material is sort of used.
> 
> An comments or critiques would be wonderful. This is un'beta so if you see any glaring mistakes let me know.
> 
> Thanks for reading.

Malik lay on the cold hard stone, his breath slow and measured. He could feel the cold sipping into all the pain that his body carried. Two years he had been forced to stay in this cell because of a lie, because of vengeance. He tried not let himself get worked up again. It would help nothing. He could not stop the sigh from slipping from his lips though.

His body was weak, the stench of the cell filled his nose. He had placed his head in the cleanest spot available. He waited and waited. Mind jumping from thought to thought. Altair and Tazim filled his head the most. He had let them down. He sometimes wondered if this is how Altair had felt after Solomon's temple, when he had started to change. The dread and guilt gnawed at him worst then the hunger. Malik wished he could see his friend and son again, wished he could tell them how sorry he was, how he wished he had noticed Abbas betrayal sooner.

Malik had heard that this was to be his last day. That Abbas had finally decided to end his existence. Altair must be getting close, was all Malik could think of. Abbas had left him to rot in this cell for two years already, so something must be going on. Or he had finally shown his true nature and needed to cowl the other assassins into submission. Either way he waited for his end.

His mind turned to more pleasant thoughts to cope.

He thought instead of the day that his son had been born. A year after Altair, Darim and Maria left, his son had been born. His heart had not known what to do with itself. Tazim's mother had died that day. Malik's heart had been heavy when the women had told him. Tears had sprung into his eyes. One of the woman had quickly handed him his son though. 

The tears had stopped for a moment.

He had looked at the tiny bundle in amazement. He could not believe he was holding his son. He slowly brought Tazim up to cuddle against his chest, remembering what he had done with Kadar. Malik started to hum a little song, mind wrapped up in the thought that he had to protect his son at all cost. He wished that Altair had been there to meet the little boy.

He remembered when the Mentor had held his son, Darim, for the first time. 

Altair's stony face changed immediately to look like he had tasted something sour. Malik had frowned at the look until Altair had looked up at him and had quietly asked if he was holding the baby correctly.

Malik could only laugh has he realized that his dearest friend was worried. Malik had spent most of the day reassuring Altair that he was doing fine. Altair kept looking between Malik and Maria every time the baby did something or made a noise. The Master Assassin had sat on the back of a chair staring at his son. Malik had joked that he looked like an eagle that everyone joked Altair to truly be. The man had not even tilted his head towards Malik at the words, just continued to stare at the small boy.

A smile graced Malik's cracked lips now as he looked at the ceiling, not seeing anything. Tazim. His young son had brought so much joy into his life. Had made handling the Order easier. It had broken his heart to send his child away, but he had gotten the sense that something was not right anymore; that Masyaf was no longer safe. 

He had hoped that he had acted quick enough to get his son out of danger. He had already failed to save Sef. At least he knew that his son was with Sef's family, so he should have been safe. Abbas had not come down to gloat, so he took that as a win. He just wished he had sent Sef away as well instead of allowing the young man to remain with him.  
Malik held no illusion that protecting Sef would have saved him. He now understood the depth of Abbas's anger to realize that he would have ended up in this cell or dead, sooner or later.

Malik gently shook his head to get rid of the dark thoughts. 

Tazim saying Baba for the first time, popped up next. Malik had been in the Grandmaster's study when he felt small hands grab his pants. Not looking down immediately he faintly heard his son voice carry up to him. Malik's head whipped so fast to the floor where his son lay in his basket, he was surprised that he had not snapped it. Tazim kept repeating the word once his little mind had realized that Malik responded quickly. Malik had lifted his son to his chest and had silently cried fat tears of joys. It had shocked him to find the tears sliding down his face. 

Another stab of wanting Altair to be there had overcome it at that moment. He had no one at that moment to share the joy with. 

Altair... that man had done so many things to him. He had been the goal that Malik had strived to beat as a novice. He was the one that Malik had despised the most, who's betrayal had hurt the most. After the pain of Kadar's loss had lessened and Malik had realized that Altair was truly changing, he had been the man that Malik had wanted to follow. The man had captured Malik's heart in so many ways. They were friends, brothers, compatriots. 

Malik's eyes closed has his hand touched his lips, his long beard prickly against his skin. His senses remembering what Altair's lips had felt like. 

They had only kissed once. The night before Altair had left to check out the Mongols. Malik to this day could not figure out why he had done it.

Altair had been talking about important matters and Malik's eyes had wondered down to that scar. He had watched the way it moved, watched it grow bolder when Altair pursed his lips, thinner when his lips moved wide. He had realized that Altair had stopped talking when the scar did not move. Dark brown eyes quickly moved up to meet a golden pair.  
Before Altair could ask or repeat himself, Malik had a desire to feel that scar. He leaned forward and captured Altair's lips. Nothing happened for a moment, then Malik had felt Altair's rough hands frame his face. Their lips started to move against each other. Neither were sure who had deepened the kiss first, but soon there was tongue and teeth involved. A noise below, a book dropping (?) and muttering had broken the kiss. Malik realized his hand gripped the front of Altair's robes tightly. 

Altair had tilted his head, like a bird, and stared hard at Malik. He leaned forward and gently placed a chaste kiss on Malik's lips. He had whispered in a husky voice that they would talk when he returned. He lifted himself from his chair and headed towards his quarters. 

The next day, Altair's eye rarely left Malik as he prepared for the journey. Malik could see Maria was giving them a quizzical look. Malik inwardly cursed the woman's perspective behavior. Thankfully no one else noticed.

Malik lay in his cell, disappointed that he would never get to feel Altair's lips again. He had realized over the last couple of years, particularly the ones where he had been jailed, that he was in love with the novice. There was no longer any point in denying it. It was Altair that he had thought of first whenever his son did something for the first time, not the child's mother. It had been Altair that he had longed for when the nights were coldest, darkest, stormiest. He had wanted to see those unusual golden eyes one more time. He wanted the man's forgiveness for not protecting his son, for not protecting the Order better.

Malik was lost in the swirl of want when he heard his door being unlocked. With what little strength he had left, he lifted himself up. Swarmi, Abbas's right hand man, greasy smile greeted Malik as the light from the outside hit Malik's sensitive eyes. He heard the man move into the cell, before he could see him again.

"Come on Al-Sayf," Swarmi kicked Malik's leg. Pain tingled from the area. "It's time to get up." Rough hands grabbed him, dragging him towards the door. Malik tried to stand, his pride saving him for a moment, before his legs gave out. He was to weak now. Swarmi laughed has he dropped, knees jarring against the stone. Malik was not able to stifle the groan of pain.

"Looks like we are going to have to drag you out to the court yard." Swarmi stated. Malik saw him make a motion towards the guards that were with him. Malik wondered for a moment why he had some many with him.

He soon found out as he entered the court yard. It seemed that Abbas did not control the order completely yet. Malik could make out some of the whispers as he was dragged across the grounds. Many were shocked to see that he still lived, some did not believe he had killed the Mentor's son, others thought it was about time Abbas did something about him. Some were curious to know how the Mentor was going to handle this, some even thought this should wait for the man to come back. Rumors said he was on his way home.

Malik's heart stopped for a moment. Altair, almost home? His eyes darted around trying to find safe familiar faces. There was suddenly a fight to live in him. Altair was close. If he could survive for just a little while longer, he would get to see that man again. Malik started to struggle. His attempt to escape was short lived and pathetic. He no longer had any really strength in his body and the two guards that had him were whole and healthy. It took a single punch to the stomach to stop his struggles.  
They lead him to a platform that had been erected by the training grounds tucked in between the stairs. Malik could see Abbas standing in the center, arms crossed against his chest, a smug arrogant look on his face.

The guards dragged him up the stairs, dropping him onto his already bruised knees face a pot where his head would go. He heard Abbas move up to him, felt the heat off the man when he leaned across his back.

"Hello Malik," he spat quietly. "Enjoying the fresh air?" Malik could only turn his head and glare at the man. Abbas grinned like the arrogant fool that he was. "Please send my regards to Sef and Kadar when you see them." Abbas stood up and eyed the crowd.

"We are gathered here to finally witness the execution of the traitor Malik. The council, along with our Mentor, who has sent word of his agreement, have decided it is time to end the life of the traitor. This man not only murdered a brother, the son of our Mentor, but also wanted to end the life of our beloved Mentor and steal his power." Malik noticed that many in the crowd seemed to have grown nervous at the mention of Altair agreeing to this. Malik's own heart stopped once again. Altair could not have actually believed Abbas's lies, he thought. Malik hoped and prayed to Allah that this was not true, surely Altair would not have believed it.

Of course, he could not blame Altair if he had. The man had been betrayed by several people that he thought he could trust. Malik's heart started working overtime as he thought about the possibility. Truly all he wanted to do was cry at the thought, but he took a deep breath as he straightened his spine. He would not give Abbas the satisfaction of seeing him fall apart. Not now, not ever.

"Do you have any last words to say traitor?" Abbas asked, turning his hate-filled gaze towards Malik. Malik took another deep breath, filling his lungs with the clean air of the mountain, and glared. "No. Well then, I guess we can get this over with quickly." 

The guards shoved Malik down, his head fitting inside the dark pot, leaving his neck exposed. He wished he could have been looking at the sky instead of seeing the darkness of the pot. He took on last deep breath as he felt the blade line up with his neck. He expected that the blade moving would be the last thing that he heard, he was not expecting to hear a scream of denial cut through the silence. 

There was a cacophony of noise suddenly as a foot connected with his ribs sending him rolling across the platform, the pot stuck around his head. Weakly he reached up and pulled his head out of the pot, hoping the spots that crossed his vision would disappear quickly as he tried to figure out what was going on. 

The assassins were fighting each other. His eyes scanned across the training yard, which had turned into a battlefield. His scanning stopped when he spotted Abbas fighting... Altair. Malik's breath caught in his throat as he saw Altair. That damnable hood that he always had up covered most of his face, but Malik caught sight of his mouth. His teeth were bared, no longer looking like an eagle, but a wolf. His moves were sharp and fast. Most enemies would not survive Altair, but Abbas had the advantage of knowing how the Mentor fought.

"You still die today Malik," someone screamed at him. Malik ripped his gaze away from Altair to see Swarmi charging him. Malik was only able to scrabble a few inches back when suddenly Maria stood over him. Her gaze was cold as she met Swarmi head on. Swarmi might have been younger and faster, but Maria was skilled. She pushed Swarmi across the platform, knocking him off. 

Instead of following Swarmi to the ground, Maria turned back towards Malik. Quickly she pulled the him up, helping him get off the platform. A quick look towards Altair showed that he was still fighting Abbas, Darim guarding his back as he disarmed the assassins that tried to help Abbas.

They were barely able to weave out of the way of combat, reaching the gate to find out that the fight had even spilled out of the fort already. Maria lead him part way down the hill the turned left towards some homes, as he what strength he could muster started to fade. Hiding behind on the houses, she began to look him over. 

Her hair was peppered with grey streaks as her brown eyes took him in. She was still wrapped in her traveling clothes. The sword that she had carried was dropped next to them when her hands cupped his face.

"Dear Malik," she whispered, "I'm sorry we took so long to get back." 

"You don't believe I killed your son, do you?" He blurted out. A soft terrible smile appeared on her face. She leaned close, foreheads touching.

"No." She stated firmly. "We don't believe it. He doesn't believe." Malik's shoulders sagged as relief flooded through him. He could not stop the tears from falling from his eyes. She held him, pulled him close. Malik could feel her own tears falling on top of his.

The sound of boots running towards them caught their attention. Maria pulled away, hand reaching for the sword, when Swarmi appeared. He saw what Maria reached for and launched himself into a tackle before she could reach the sword. Maria kicked and scratched at her attacker, trying to find a soft spot. Unfortunately Swarmi was better armored and weighted more than the woman below him. 

Malik grabbed the sword and stood up in time to see Swarmi drive his hidden blade into Maria's chest. There was a moment of shocked silence, before rage consumed Malik. 

Swarmi turned to look at Malik, only to see steel. Malik had swung the sword so hard, so fast, that he took Swarmi's head completely off from the jaw up. Malik's body could not handle the weight though and collapsed as the sword flew from his hands. Swarmi's headless body dropped at Maria's side as Malik collapsed. 

Taking only a moment to catch his breath, he began crawling over to his friend. Malik tried to stop the wound from bleeding more when he was able to pull himself up, when Maria's hand caressed his cheek. Looking up, he saw her smile.

"You're all he has left, besides Darim now. Take care of him." Maria's eyes closed as her hand fell to the dirt.

"No!" Malik cried out. His blood covered hands reaching for her shoulders. "No Maria, please come back, please." Sobs racked his body. He could not handle this anymore. His body was screaming with pain and hunger, his mind frail and weak. He just wanted to curl up and sleep for years.

"Maria?" Malik stilled as he heard a deep voice from behind him. He slowly turned around to find Altair and Darim standing behind him. Malik could only gap at his friend. He watched as Altair's eyes harden as tears started to form. No one had time to move though when Abbas's voice cut through the air.

"Kill them," he screamed, madness creeping into his voice. "Kill them now!"

Altair did not even bother to turn towards Abbas, he reached out and pushed his son forward as he reached down to pull Malik up. Altair pushed them towards the side of the hill where the small cliff was. Jumping they landed in a pile of hay. Malik's breath escaped him as he landed, black dots swimming in his vision. Altair's strong hands grabbed and lifted him and the rushed down the hill as best as they could. 

Malik was barely able to notice there were quite a few assassins that seemed to be covering them as they reached the gate. They reached the horses. He felt Altair lift him onto a horse, then heat covering his back as Altair joined him. The horse took several jarring steps before Malik black out, his body no longer able to handle the stress. The last thing he heard was Abbas yelling that they could not hide forever. He would have the Apple.

*****

There was a light that fell across Malik's face making his eyes blinking open slowly. For a moment he thought he was in his cell, but he noticed that one, the ceiling was made of wood, not stone and two, he was for the first time in two years, warm. There was a layer of blankets on him and a pillow that were soft that cushioned his head.

He spent a moment staring at the ceiling, enjoying being warm. His brain finally informed him that he should figure out where he was. Another part of Malik did not even care as long as he was not in that stupid cell. His eyes were beginning to close again when an image of Maria caressing his cheek as she died crossed his mind. Malik's eyes snapped back open as he looked around the room. 

He found Altair. The man had his legs pulled up to his chest, golden eyes staring intently at him. Malik tried to swallow, but his throat was suddenly dry. He could not look away from Altair.

Altair was the first to look away as he reached for a cup. He moved to sit on the bed as he reached for Malik.

"Drink some water." He stated, his voice almost monotone. Malik drank without argument, not too sure how to handle Altair. Once the water hit his tongue, his brain gave up on trying to figure out the best way to handle the situation. He focused instead on drinking greedily. He had not realized how parched he was, how long it had been since he had tasted fresh, clean water. The cup was empty to quickly for Malik's liking. He pleadingly looked at Altair hoping to get more. Altair shook his head, but handed him some dried fruit instead. Malik almost eat the fruit faster than he had drunk the water.

He looked at Altair pleadingly again.

"No more. If you drink or eat anymore, you will get sick. Sleep some more my friend. You need that more than anything else right now. I will make sure you get some more food and water when you wake next." Altair gently pushed him back down on the bed.

"I'm sorry Altair." Malik whispered. "I failed you. I wasn't able to protect your son, I wasn't able to protect the Order. I'm even the cause of Maria's death." The words kept falling from Malik's lips. "I hadn't realized Abbas had had so much support. He had spent many years trying to undermined me, but I hadn't realized the depth of his depravity. This wouldn't have happened to a stronger leader. This wouldn't have happened to you." Malik's voice had grown even softer, he needed more strength.

Altair's eyes softened. He leaned over Malik as he bent down to place a chaste kiss on his lips. It lasted for a few second, Altair's lip cracked and dried, but an underlined softness to them against Malik's thin and broken lips. Their pressure and warmth brought a pit of warmth to Malik's belly. He reached up with his last good hand to wrap around the back of Altair's neck. Altair let the kiss last for a moment more, before he pulled back.

"Not another word Malik. Don't let this trouble you any longer. Rest now. I will be here." 

Malik could only give the man a small, broken smile as the tension left him. His eyes slowly closed, knowing he was now safe, that he was warm, that there could be a moment of peace.

*****

If anyone had dared peeked into the room that housed Malik and Altair, they would have seen the Eagle of Masyaf guarding the Owl of Assassins. They would have seen the Eagle prepared to kill anything that threatened the Owl, they would have seen a look of love and grief cover the Eagle as he watched the Owl stay in a deep, healing sleep. They might have been able to see some hope come to the Eagle when the Owl had smiled at him for just a moment.


End file.
